


Comfort

by Musogato



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: Empire of Gold speculation, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, kingdom of copper spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23537545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musogato/pseuds/Musogato
Summary: Still in those early days of Cairo, Ali has a nightmare and Nahri's at his side.
Relationships: Nahri e-Nahid/Alizayd al Qahtani
Kudos: 28





	Comfort

It's past midnight when she hears it, and Nahri rushes from the kitchen; the half-peeled orange left spinning on the table. In Yaqub's guest room where they have been staying, she finds Ali rolled onto his side; flinching in his sleep and haltingly crying out in Geziriyya. At his temple Suleiman's seal glows with varying intensity, the light haunting in the otherwise dark room. 

She exhales and drops beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Ali, shh. It's okay. You're dreaming. Please, please just wake up already."

Instead his face contorts in dulled anguish, lost in the nightmare plaguing him. She shakes his shoulder more forcefully, choking back the sob in her chest. He mumbles in Geziriyya again, tears falling from his lashes. Nahri's expression crumbles at the sight. She steps behind him and wraps her arm around him as she rests her head on his shoulder. 

"I'm here, Ali. I'm here." She soothes. The scent of oranges fills her nose, bright and tangy against his salty musk and the faint laundry soap. 

He twitches once more with a mumble before he seems to settle, his rapid breathing evening out. Nahri doesn't know how long she stays like this; drowsily fighting back her own memories as she strokes his hand with her thumb. 

  
  


When he awakens, he recognizes nothing. The room is small, dim and plainly furnished. There's a weight around him, warm but strange, a thing alive. An arm draped over him is a brown that doesn't match his own, but for too many seconds he wills it to flex as if it were. 

His mind then catches a presence behind him, a steady exhaling with the faintest of whistling. Eyes follow the mystery arm up past his torso, and meet with a face resting heavily against his shoulder. _Nahri_. Her expression is pained, dark bags under her eyes. He stares at her as that night sweeps back to him, the horror and blood rising in his chest until he can't breathe. Instantly the arm around him tightens and into his shoulder she speaks slurred words of comfort. His short ragged breaths slow beneath her warmth, her half-asleep murmurs of, "I'm here, we're safe."

He settles his head back into the thin cushion and stares at Nahri's hand. Exhaustion beginning to overtake him again, he gently covers her hand with his own and closes his eyes. He can face everything else in the morning. 


End file.
